


Trigger: Abuse

by Glazkov



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Abuse, Blood, Graphic, Headcanon, Origin Story, Read at your own discretion, rainbow six siege, trigger - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 07:46:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16259792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glazkov/pseuds/Glazkov
Summary: Origin story of the operator Chul Kyung “Vigil” Hwa, who experienced physical abuse.





	Trigger: Abuse

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please, please do NOT read if any amount of abuse or blood triggers you.

A loud crash and a groan of pain. Loud footsteps approached the shuffles. No screams were heard though, only pants and gasps for air. A boy was crawling on the floor in an attempt to escape, small cries could be heard. But he had nowhere to hide or go to escape the pain. His father caught up to him and grabbed the boy by the hair. He yanked harshly as he dragged the boy across the floor.

“Where do you think you’re going..?” A slurred voice spoke low and was filled with anger. Failed attempts at a response were heard, but no words were complete enough to be put together as a sentence. Only pleads of mercy and apologies for events that he didn’t even do, let alone remember fully. “Answer me, you fucker!” the slurred voice’s words reverberated around the small and broken room. Still, no words came out, no emotions shown. The boy didn’t know what to do besides deal with it. He always had just dealt with it. The abuse wasn’t anything new, but it was progressively getting worse and worse, more pain, and more blood. But he couldn’t show his pain, couldn’t let it get to him.

A glass bottle broke against a nearby wall. The glass shards landed against the boy’s skin, making light and shallow cuts in his skin. Just make it stop. His internal pleas were ignored, not like anyone would even hear him if he did scream. All hopes of any possible help were lost. All he had was pain, suffering, and fear. Blurred words went into his head, but he couldn’t make sense of the words. His lack of understanding earned him more cuts into his skin. Heavy amounts of blood flowed down his head. Lightheadedness came over him, but it didn’t feel as though he had lost that much blood. But the taste of it filled his mouth, the smell infected in his mind.

His body was dropped, some hair was still being held. It had been ripped out of his head and he didn’t even feel it. The boy lay limp against the floor, only his light breathing signaled that he was alive. It took the last of his energy to even lift his head up off the floor. All his energy went waste, though. A heavy kick against his head both broke his nose and knocked him out. Though his blackout only lasted a few minutes. Or at least it felt that way. The blood still hadn’t dried against his skin, so that’s how he knew that it had not been long. He was a bloody mess, his body and face covered in it. He reeked of it, the awful smell of fresh blood surrounded him. His body hurt, it hurt so bad. It was all he could feel, his burning nerves that stayed alight from any type of movement he tried.

Tears had welled up his eyes, but they didn’t flow. They couldn’t, it would only cause further punishment. That punishment would come anyways, no matter what he did to prevent it. Footsteps were heard, getting closer and closer until they were right next to him. Stay down, keep your head down. His thoughts told him what to do, but he couldn’t stay still. Keeping his face against the floor only caused more pain. His head slowly lifted to where his gaze was right on his father’s face. The blur in his vision tried to trick him into thinking it was someone else, someone who could help him. Save him. Save him for the god forsaken hell that he was stuck in.

“Stand up.” An order was given, and the order must be followed. The boy forced himself to stand despite his body shaking. “Look at me.” The previous anger seemed to leave his voice, but it was there. It was just hidden in the drunken subtext that only the boy could understand. Sad eyes were raised to the face of his attacker. “You know why I do this to you? Do you?” The question was asked in a low voice. The kid shook his head shallowly, his neck hurt too much for him to fully shake his head. 

A hand reached up underneath his chin and kept his head up. “I do this because you deserve it. You caused everything that happened to us, to my wife and my son. My son wouldn’t have drowned had you not been there, my wife wouldn’t have had to be left behind because of you. You are the reason they are both dead. Why wasn’t it you? Why didn’t you die instead? Because you are selfish, think of yourself before others.” All those words hurt, but they were true. It was his fault, it’s what he was told so many times before. But it still hurt to hear it. 

“I loved them, you know. I loved my wife and my son, I wanted the best for them. You are just the imposter who got in my way of saving them. So, everything I do to you is your punishment.” Punishment. That word was always on the boy’s mind. When the next punishment would be and how severe that one will be. Then the next one, and the next, next, next. The boy nodded his head weakly, tried to show he understood. The hand under his chin grabbed his jaw roughly. “Just seeing you makes me sick.” Those words were spat in his face.

His father’s hand released its grip on his jaw and moved to his neck. “You should’ve died.” The grip tightened ever so slowly until it was hard to breath. Small hands were raised in an attempt to pull his father’s hand away. Nothing. It just earned him less air and a lighter head. More words were said, but they were lost in his now water filled head. All his thoughts swam in his head, none of them made sense. Just empty words in an empty head. 

White dots filled his vision until it was all he could see. Weak attempts at receiving air were made, but none of them amounted to anything. That’s when he was dropped to the floor. When had he been lifted, when had his feet left the ground? He didn’t notice it at all. His weak legs buckled underneath him and he came down hard against the floor. Loud gasps for air filled a heaving chest. Those tears that had been stored away came now, after he was left alone in the room. The door was slammed after his father walked out. Now he could do what he pleased.

Sobs filled the room. He had curled up on the floor and hid his face in his knees. His nerves that were once blazing with pain were calming down now. He had to fix himself. His face was the place that was still ablaze. Slowly, very slowly, he stood up. A mirror was somewhere around here. He didn’t want to look, didn’t wasn’t to see what was done to him. But getting clean was his priority. First, break his nose back in place. Get the hard part out of the way. 

Took a lot of confidence and resilience to break it back in place. One… two… three. A snap and a cry were heard. Keep it down, he had to be quieter. Ignore the pain, keep going. The boy had stolen bandages from a local store for this type of situation. Many things were stolen that he used, but he wasn’t caught yet so he was fine for now. Carefully, the bandages were applied and taped down. Keep the cartilage where it was supposed to be. Next, clean up every cut that had bled. The others could be ignored for the moment. 

It took quite a bit of time, but all the blood was taken off his skin and hair. Bandages were given to cuts that needed them, all the others were simply cleaned. Now he hoped that the wounds wouldn’t get infected. He didn’t need that. The boy raised his head up to look at himself in the mirror. He wanted to cry again, but he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t be weak, couldn’t show his pain and agony. 

Why does this happen to me? Why me? Why, why, why? Why does no one help me? Every question raced throughout his brain. But no answers came me. They never came, he was always left in silence. 

“Why me…”


End file.
